


Save Me If I Become My Demons

by Delphine_Le_Dauphin



Series: Welcome to the Masquerade [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Goro Is Not A Bad Guy, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Mention of Attempted Child Murder, Mention of Mental Health Issues, Spoilers, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphine_Le_Dauphin/pseuds/Delphine_Le_Dauphin
Summary: Title inspired by the song 'My Demons' by Starset, whose lyrics are scattered in the fic as well.Canon Divergence AU. How did Goro Akechi, the detective investigating the infamous Phantom Thieves of Hearts, end up becoming one of them?In the end, the cop and the robbers may have more things in common than they think...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Declaimers: I don’t own the characters or the franchise this story is based on, just the idea behind it. If I owned the game, things would have gone like this for sure. I don’t write for money, just for the pleasure of sharing my stories with you all.
> 
> This is how I imagined Goro would have awakened to his Persona before the game came out and ruined my hopes.  
> Still, I wanted to share my theory with you all. Truth be told, it was a shame Goro didn't get an epic awakening scene like the rest of the Phantom Thieves in-game...  
> Hope you like it :)
> 
> Before you start reading, be warned that in this story, Goro has NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder), claims that he’s seen enough therapists for a lifetime, takes pride in having sent some of them in therapy themselves a là Artemis Fowl and jokes about saying he has APD (Antisocial Personality Disorder) to avoid prison. If you have issues with any of this, don't read or read at your own risk. If you don't have any ptoblem, then have fun and enjoy the reading.
> 
> Cross-posted with my Tumblr RP side blog: the-crow-prince.tumblr.com

_Mayday! mayday!_  
_The ship is slowly sinking_  
_They think I’m crazy but they don’t know the feeling._  
_They’re all around me,_  
_Circling like vultures_  
_They wanna break me and wash away my colors._

I am Akechi Goro… The Second Coming of the Detective Prince… The Charismatic Detective… I’m good at my job… At only 18, I solved more cases than a good number of ‘official’ detectives… I’m famous… I have many fans…

“You are nothing more than an unwanted child. You drove your father away. You drove your mother to suicide. No foster family wanted to keep you for long. Your fans would abandon you right away if they knew who you actually are beneath your perfectly constructed façade.”

I fall to my knees, my gloved hands flying to my ears to plug them, but I can still hear the twisted version of Sae-san (a Shadow representing her true desires, she called herself) cackling gleefully, obviously enjoying my torment.

That’s why she summoned me there, she said. This place is where the police station used to be. I stayed behind to check on some case files, and she summoned me here to spit in my face what ‘the true Sae’ really thought of me, but would never say in real life.

“I hear the talks going around the police station. They only put up with you because you’re famous. The bright, charming Charismatic Detective helping them with a case, what an honor… If they knew what you really are, all the hideous things you hide beneath your bright, fake smile, they’d cast you aside without a second thought… I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for what I promised Father… what was the old man thinking about, taking home a stray? A stray that got him killed, at that?! No matter what everyone say, it was your fault he got killed! No matter how perfect you try to be, people will always leave or cast you aside, one way or another…”

I press my hands harder against my ears to try and will away Sae-san’s distorted voice, curling down on myself as I used to do when I was a child trying to hide from his abusers. Every single word is like a sharp knife in my heart, yet all I can do is try and plug my ears against the emotional onslaught.

And what’s worse, we’re not alone. If it was just the two of us, it’d be still tolerable. I am well-aware of what I keep hidden behind my ‘charismatic detective’ persona, and Sae-san knows as well, in virtue of being the daughter of the man who saved me from the life I’m trying so hard to forget and keep hidden. But no, the Phantom Thieves are here as well. Doing what, or for what reason, I have no idea, and I couldn’t care less at the moment. I just want them to leave, not stay and witness this.

How pathetic they must think I am. They’re sure having the time of their lives, watching the detective trying to catch them down on his knees, unable to cope with the reality of how fucked up his life truly is…

_“Are you just gonna take it lying down? Is this how you want it to end, on your knees succumbing to blue-blooded hypocrites?”_

I feel a sharp pain in my head and I instinctively press my fingers harder against my skull as I close my eyes tightly against the burning pain overtaking them. That voice… the voice which just spoke… it’s not Sae-san’s… it’s a deep baritone… and it seems to come from deep within my head…!

_“Those fools living on borrowed influence, as if they have the right to look down on you… birthright means nothing… and you can prove it to all those hypocrites…”_

I greet my teeth as the pain in my head intensifies, my eyes burning so fiercely I’m forced to open them wide, and still, my vision is so unfocused I can barely discern the bright neon lights standing out like fireflies in the poorly-lit room. The more the voice speaks, the more the pain seems to intensify and I can barely think beyond the throbbing headache.

_“I shall lend you my strength to help you in your quest for recognition… all I ask in return is you let go of your undeserved shame…”_

My underserved shame? What is the meaning of this? And who are you?!

_“I am thou, thou art I…”_

You… are me? I don’t understand…

_“Now rip off your mask… and show all of them… THAT WHAT IS GIVEN CAN BE TAKEN AWAY!”_

The pain in my head stops abruptly, leaving only a faint throbbing sensation behind, and the burning sensation in my eyes diminishes but still lingers. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down and analyze what happened now that my head is somewhat clearer, lingering headache aside.

Cautiously, I remove my fingers from my head, feeling my hair slick with perspiration before my fingertips brush against something smooth and velvety over my forehead and temples.

Without knowing how, I know exactly what it is. A mask.

I let my fingertips brush over the its edges, my pinky fingers meeting once I reach the tip of the mask’s long nose. I know exactly what I’m supposed to do. Unable to stop  the smirk forming on my lips, I grip the mask’s nose and pull.

It’s painful, as if I’ve just ripped off my own skin instead of a mask, and I can feel blood running down my cheeks as I close my eyes tightly and let out a spontaneous scream of pain.

Then there’s the fire, engulfing my whole being, searing and healing at the same time, death and rebirth in a single stroke.

It doesn’t last long, though. Within a moment, the pain and the fire are all but gone and forgotten, replaced by sheer _power_. Pure, unadulterated _power_ cursing through my veins like adrenaline, only ten thousand times headier. When I open my eyes, my vision is clear, actually clearer that it’s ever been in my entire life.

The first thing I notice are my hands. They’re still gloved, but the gloves are no longer black. They’re pure white and of a lighter, more stretchy material, fitting my hands even more perfectly than my usual black leather gloves and dipping into large, red cuffs with golden trimmings. From what I can see in my line of vision, my arms and legs are no longer fitted into grey sleeves and black pants, but in pure silvery white material almost the same color as the gloves.

The next thing I notice is that I’m surrounded by what can only be described as bright blue flames circling around me lazily. They don’t burn, though. It’s the type of flame that soothes and warms, like woodfire from a fireplace.

There’s a presence above me, stranger and familiar at the same time. From the corner of my eyes, I’m able to catch glimpse of a powerful physique clad in an outfit as white as mine, the floating of a long blue cape and what looks like a huge, golden bow with a name, ‘Robin Hood’, written on it, with deep blue evanescent chains floating and circling around it. I immediately recognize it (him?) for what (who?) it is.

Robin Hood. The legendary thief that stole from the riches to give to the poor, either a commoner or a disgraced nobleman who refused to bow his head to the abuses of a corrupted system and was branded an outlaw for fervently opposing it.

Robin Hood. My other self. My Persona.

I slowly raise to my feet, my legs still trembling a bit for the amount of adrenaline cursing through them. The red mask vanished from my hands the moment I ripped it off to call forth Robin Hood; in its place, my hands are now wielding two weapons: a sword with a golden hilt and the blade that seems to be made of pulsing neon blue light in my left and a sleek metallic white gun that wouldn’t fit wrong in a Sentai movie in the right.

(Two words: _Freaking. Awesome!_ )

I smirk again, unable to stop a dark chuckle once I look up and notice Sae-san’s bewildered expression from between the two masked black men in tuxedo that have been with her the whole time, acting pretty much like mindless bodyguards would. Oh, this is gonna be so much fun.

“You know what, Sae-san? I don’t care anymore.” I hiss out, looking straight into her heavily made-up eyes with a look I know to be just as cold as my words “If people are really gonna abandon me anyway, then why should I put on an act just to please them? No more Mr. Nice Guy from now on. Time to settle the score!”

 _Take me high and I’ll sing_  
_Oh you make everything okay (okay, okay)_  
_We are one in the same_  
_Oh you take all of the pain away (away, away)_  
_Save me if I become_  
_My demons_

One thing I learned very quickly is that fighting those masked humanoid abominations (I think they’ere called Shadows, demons… whatever…) is no easy business. Especially with a voice in the back of your head talking almost nonstop, trying to tell you what to do, half of which was the imperative don’t panic! (something about a Persona being unable to manifest outside its user’s mind when they’re Panicked or something).

I always prided myself for multitasking skills and ability to keep calm even in the worst of situations (I once kept a straight face with a gun pointed at my head, for Kami-sama’s sake!), but dodging a monster’s attack while trying to hit it without accidently hitting anyone else on the battlefield and listening to a newly-awakened voice in my head introducing itself as my ‘other self’ and trying to tell me what to do nearly proved to be too much even for me. God, I hate it when life reminds me of my limits, be them social, mental or physical…

Speaking of which, another hard lesson I learned was that using your Persona’s skills saps both your mental and physical energy. Robin Hood can use two type of Elemental skills (Almighty and Light), which require a sacrifice of mental energy, and one Physical attack, Megaton Raid, which needs some physical energy (duh!) to be cast efficiently. Using them once or twice wouldn’t be much of a hassle (physical and mental exhaustion are things I’m used to deal with more often than I’d like to admit, almost everyday occurrence), but thing is, Shadows are tough bastards (as Sakamoto oh so elegantly puts it, which I found myself fully agreeing with once my first battle as a Persona user ends) and the most powerful ones take a lot to go down even with nine Persona Users attacking them at once.

Like the one Shadow Sae sicced on me the moment she recovered from her surprise at my impromptu ‘awakening’, born from her two mindless bodyguard fusing together to become what could be described as a two-armed snake with a bull-headed torso for a head. Sounds crazy, but that’s exactly what emerged from the puddle of reddish black sludge left behind by the collision-slash-fusion of Shadow Sae’s masked bodyguards. I’ve seen lots of things in my life, both before and after I became a detective, ranging from midly disgusting to downright horrifying, but that thing easily took the cake for both categories. The monster itself wasn’t that much powerful, but the blasted thing kept using a spell to heal itself whenever it looked ready to kneel over and die, so making sure it wouldn’t bounce back and start spamming fire attacks again took an insanely large amount of time, elemental attacks and bullets.

So, all considered, it’s no surprise that, by the time the monster had dissolved into a puddle of the same reddish black substance it had emerged from, I could barely take a step to try and chase after Shadow Sae (who had apparently watched the whole battle, only to turn on her heels -both figuratively and literally- and disappear through a door that most definitely wasn’t there a moment before) before my legs gave out, forcing me to collapse on my knees on the floor, panting heavily, my whole body shaking with fatigue and my mind buzzing with static. The rush of adrenaline that had sustained me through the whole battle had sapped completely, leaving me completely exhausted, both mentally and physically, like a child coming down from a sugar rush.

Physical exhaustion (like after hours of cycling around Tokyo) and mental fatigue (like after reading case file after case file) I could easily handle separately; put together, however, they proved to be a cocktail strong enough to knock me out long enough that I can’t remember clearly what happened after my collapse on the floor of that strange Casino place. Probably I blacked out for a while, or was just too exhausted to focus on what was going on around me.

Suffice to say that when I regained enough energy for my brain to function (although barely and far from its usual pace) again, I found myself in a place as familiar as unexpected. Café Leblanc. Had my brain been functioning properly, I would’ve racked it for each and every data I had concerning the Phantom Thieves and this place, but at the moment I was 1) still too exhausted to care; 2) had more pressing questions that needed answers; 3) there was coffee!

Truth be told, a part of me can’t stand the idea of not knowing something vital for an investigation. Plus, the chance of getting said data from the Phantom Thieves of Hearts in the flesh (something I’ve been hoping to do ever since the investigation started, although the circumstances are quite different than how I always imagined they’d be) is… quite exhilarating, to be honest, even though I’d be sooner caught dead than admitting it aloud.

Rationally speaking I should be wary, even afraid maybe, being in a deserted place (it’s past closing time, and the café itself is in a pretty secluded area), but the atmosphere is quiet and far from heavy. They should be wary too (after all, I’m the detective working on their case, and I now pretty much know their identities), but they mostly seem… worried? About me? I’m certainly a bit worn out, but nothing that a shower, a good night’s sleep and some coffee can’t fix.

(Now that I think about it, they gave off similar vibes back in the casino place during Sae-san’s rant… I wonder why…)

Given the situation, I have tons of questions about what’s going on, and surprisingly, they answer all of them, although not before Sakamoto says something along the lines of “he’s the detective investigating us, why should we tell him everything and give him an excuse to arrest us?!”, to which their talking cat (what’s their name again? Mona? Morgana?) replied with “it’s not like they’re gonna believe him anyway”. I expected a reaction like that, and they both had a point, so I take no offense to that. If anything, what the cat says just makes me more curious and eager to know.

Cases are like puzzles: all you have to do is put together the pieces to get the whole picture. Sometimes you miss some important pieces, and no matter how much you twist and turn the pieces you already have, you will never find a solution unless you somehow find the missing pieces. These guys have said missing pieces, and I’m willing to listen to them and give them the benefit of the doubt. For now, at least.

When they’re done talking and answering my questions, I understand why the cat said that nobody would ever believe me. I myself find it hard to believe when I experienced it firsthand.

So there’s a another world that exists parallel to ours, apparently born from the ‘collective unconscious’ of the Tokyo populace, where people with particularly corrupt hearts sometime form ‘Palaces’, structures reflecting their twisted vision of themselves and others.

All the people who confessed their crimes and wrongdoings (Kamoshida, Madarame, Kaneshiro and Okumura) and admitted about having had their hearts changed by the Phantom Thieves had a Palace inside the collective unconscious inhabited by their ‘Shadow Self’, with each Palace corresponding to a location in the real world.

The same thing had apparently happened to Sae-san, with the casino place I was pulled into being her Palace, located where the police station is, and the Sae-san who talked to me so harshly being her Shadow Self representing her twisted heart (although I can’t fathom how such an upstanding individual like Sae-san could have a twisted desire for something, true, lately things weren’t going well at work and she became extra-hard on both me and Makoto, but I doubt stress could warrant the corruption needed to form a Palace… I’ll have to look into it later on).

The same thing that happened to me back there apparently happened to everyone else. They had found themselves face-to-face with their target’s Shadow and had awakened to their Persona as a way to rebel and fight against those corrupt adults.

As incredible (and unbelievable) as it all sounds, it also makes much more sense than anything I could think about to fill in the gaps left due to lack of evidence. The missing pieces fit together and into the whole picture perfectly, and for the first time since I started working on this case, I feel like I have a better view of the whole picture.

That answered so many of the questions I couldn’t find answers for by myself: how the Phantom Thieves effectively ‘steal the hearts’ of their targets? They steal a Treasure that the target’s Shadow appoints itself. How can they have gone around undetected? No investigator of a sound mind would ever think about looking for them in a place they don’t even know exists.

One thing that’s been nagging me, though, is that apparently what the Shadow Selves experience doesn’t influence their real life counterpart. Which is good, I guess, but at the same time leaves me dreading the next time I’ll meet Sae-san. If what her Shadow Self said was really how Sae-san felt…

One part of me is almost happy to know that Shohei-san cared about me enough to ask his oldest daughter to keep looking after me in case he died, but at the same time it hurts to know that she thinks so low of me. I should be used to it by now, but somehow it still hurts.

I took a sip of my coffee (no cream, two spoonful of sugar, some foam on top with a sprinkling of cocoa powder), doing my best to ignore the way my hand is shacking.

“So it wasn’t all just some messed-up dream, wasn’t it?” I say as a way to break the silence, which was starting to become to deafening. Silence meant I had no other things to focus on to distract myself from more troubled thoughts.

“If it was, then I’d suggest you go see a psychiatrist ASAP” replies a feminine voice that I recognize as Sakura Futaba’s, the diminutive, bespectacled genius hacker.

I immediately look up to fix her with a glare I usually reserve to people who royally piss me off, my fingers reflexively tightening around the cup handle “I’ve seen enough psychiatrists to last for a lifetime, thank you very much.” I hiss out.

I know that she probably meant it as a joke to lighten up the obvious tension, but I couldn’t help myself. In the months between Shohei-san taking me in and his death, he insisted I saw a number of therapists to help me with my issues, and as a 13-year-old teen who barely survived his mother’s attempt to kill herself while trying to take her 3-year-old son with her by drowning and suffered every possible form of abuse a child can be subjected to in foster care, I had tons of issues.

Some psychiatrists did their job well and effectively helped me, but most of them turned out to be either complete idiots or total jerks, so the least I associated myself with them, the better. I stopped seeing them altogether after Shohei-san’s death, as Sae-san never bothered to have me see them on a regular basis, as long as I didn’t show signs that I needed them again, I suppose. Very unlikely, with school and detective work keeping my mind busy almost 24/7.

“To answer your question seriously” this time it’s Yusuke, the art student from the same school as me, speaking “no, it was most definitely not a dream. Everything, from that twisted version of Nijima-san that you saw to the monster she sent to attack us, happened for real.”

“Good, just checking to make sure I don’t actually need to start seeing therapists again to see what’s wrong with my head, wouldn’t look good for my image.”

While I don’t like people joking about my past endeavors with psychiatrists and therapists, I myself have no problem making jokes about it. Kinda grown used to it after a while.

I sigh then, turning serious “Then I suppose I owe you guys my thanks. Hadn’t it been for you, it’s unlikely I’d be here now.”

“That’s why I thought we could have left the Shadows deal with you when Makoto remembered that you told her you’d stay at the police station ‘till late. One problem less to deal with. But Akira and the others were adamant that letting people be killed isn’t how we work, no matter who they are and whether they approve with our methods or not, yadda yadda, so now we have the detective after our butts knowing about us. Nice work, guys.” Is what comes out of the talking cat’s mouth. I wonder if there’s a way to mute that feline, if that’s how it (they?) usually talk, which I suppose is the case given the half-exasperated, half-annoyed looks on everyone’s face.

“As you yourself pointed out before” I say flatly, not bothering to look up from what little coffee is left swirling in my cup “there is no way anyone of a sound mind would believe such things, even if I said them, certainly not the people I work with. And I’d rather keep my reputation intact, as well as not give anyone an excuse to have me actually see a therapist.”

“You’d just end up sending them into therapy themselves… again.” Makoto replies flatly, clearly unamused, though I can’t help but chuckle. Good times. Shohei-san would give me a disapproving look and an exasperated shake of the head, but he never stayed mad for long.

…God, I miss him at times like these.

“You seem to have had some rather… bad experiences… with psychiatrists.” Okumura says casually, almost conversationally, but there’s actual worry in her eyes. No judgement, just worry. Probably wondering whether this has to do with Sae-san’s rant…

I wave the hand not holding the coffee “They were either foolish idiots or judgmental jerks. Nobody missed them much. And I didn’t need them in the first place.” I say, trying to sound as casual as he just did, but even I can tell that I’m failing miserably as I can feel my carefully constructed mask crack dangerously, and before I can stop it, the dam breaks and the words start flowing out from my mouth “My father needed therapy. My mother needed therapy. My many foster parents needed therapy. The social workers I dealt with needed therapy. All the foster kids who bullied me needed therapy!”

I realize too late that I probably said too much, but when I look up I see no judgment in their eyes. There’s worry, concern, even sympathy, but not a single trace of judgment. Only three people know about my past in details without showing any sign of rejection. One of them has been dead for years and another might not have been as sincere as they always seemed. The third one is subtly nodding in encouragement from the other side of the table, soft understanding in her eyes. Just like me, Makoto isn’t the type to easily trust people, as used as she is to adults taking advantage of her by having her do their dirty work and other teenagers seeing her as a ‘teacher pet’.

It’s such a contradiction, hiding my own past in fear that other people might reject me and at the same time hating the fact that they only seem to care about the perfect façade I project in public, as if they loved someone else and not me. To really want people to like me for me, who I am now and who I used to be, and feeling ashamed of my own origins at the same time. Whether I like it or not, though, all the things I went through ever since I was born were crucial for who I grew up to be now.

Like Shohei-san always said, “Survivors shouldn’t be ashamed.”

So I tell them everything. About how my mother was abandoned by her loved when she told him that she was pregnant with me. About how she committed suicide when I was about 3-year-old and tried to kill me alongside herself. About how I had to spend almost ten years in foster care, being passed around from one foster family to another worse than an unwanted package, because my mother’s relatives refused to take in a bastard child and nobody knew who my father was. About how Makoto’s father was the only adult willing to listen to me when I went to the police to warn them that my then-foster parents were criminals, with evidence and all. About how he took me in when my foster parents were arrested, only to get killed on duty a little less than a year later. About how I feared that Sae-san was gonna kick me out.

“People weren’t supposed to find out I was helping Sae-san with her cases, but when the reporters published the story on the newspaper, about two years ago, instead of it turning into a scandal, it meant almost instant fame for me. Before I knew it, people started referring to me as ‘The Second Coming of the Detective Prince’… the rest is history.”

The only thing I hear once I’m done talking is a long, heavy silence, and I don’t dare looking up from the empty coffee cup. Despite the familiar crippling fear I feel creeping in my chest, I can’t help but feel… relieved, as if I’m finally rid of a heavy weight. Thinking about all that I’ve been through hurts, but at the same time I’m aware that no amount of denial can change the fact that it’s part of me. A part I’d like to forget and be rid of most of the time, but part and parcel with me being me.

“If you expect us to reject you like all those bastards, you came in the wrong place.”

The one to break the silence is, surprisingly, Sakamoto. I look up instinctively, but before I can say anything to continue, he speaks again.

“My dad’s in prison because he’d beat on both me and my mother on a daily basis. Ann’s parents are always away for works and barely call her at times. Yusuke had an asshole for a mentor. Futaba’s mom died protecting her. Haru’s dad barely talked to her before we came along. Makoto’s sister once called her a burden. Morgana has no memories of their past. The only one that had a relatively normal childhood is Akira, and his parents divorced when he was about 10.

"You’re an illegitimate son? So? Do you think any of us cares about it? You're you.” Takamaki adds in the end.

I’m left speechless. Not because I didn’t expect Sakamoto to say such a thing (not that I did in the first place), but because of what he said. Not counting that one time when Shohei-san told me that survivors like me should never be ashamed (only recently I think I understood what exactly he meant with that), that was the first time someone explicitly told me they didn’t care about my origins, and after years of being constantly reminded of it because people just wouldn’t stop bullying and shaming you for that, it was a breath of fresh air...

“Yeah, yeah, this is nice and all, but we’re glossing over the biggest issue here. What to do with the detective now that he knows about us?”

…And of course the talking cat (yes, I know their name’s Morgana, but they’re still an annoyingly talking cat for me) had to put the tail into it (no pun intended). Are they always this annoying, I wonder…

“Suppose that I changed my mind about the whole ‘changing people’s hearts for the greater good’ business… would you let me join your group?”

I can almost hear the sound of metaphorical gears screeching as eight pair of eyes, wide with astonishment, instantly fix on me. Despite the situation, I can’t help but smirk a bit. Even very bad days have their silver linings.

I take their astonished silence as a request for explanation “Don’t get me wrong, I still believe brainwashing to be the worst violation of free will possible, but after reading the files regarding Kamoshida, Madarame, Kaneshiro and Okumura… I have to admit that in such cases, this was the only way those people would have admitted to their crimes. Plus this ‘other world’ might have a connection to all these ‘accidents’ that happened recently, so I’ll have to investigate it further… not counting that being part of the task force investigating about you means that I can be your 'inside man' and keep you informed about it…”

I quickly compose myself before I can start rambling, intertwining my fingers on the table and crossing one leg over the other the way I would do on talk shows  “…that is, if you don’t mind having to deal with the detective that’s being after you since the beginning on a daily basis from now on…” I add as an afterthought, because there’s still the chance they might tell me to get lost…

“There’s always the chance of getting caught… think your reputation can take such a blow?” is what Akira say, and despite his words, he’s smiling.

I smile back “Well, one of the many psychiatrists I talked with once diagnosed me with Antisocial Personality Disorder, whose main symptom is a strong disregard for laws and other people’s rights in general. If we get caught, I can always plead for mental instability.”

The laugh I get in return from all eight people in the café (if the strange meowing sounds coming from the cat are their way of laughing) tells me that yes, I am now part of the group much more than a formal invitation could have, and the thought makes a strange, yet not unfamiliar warmth bloom in my chest. Last time I felt like this was when Shohei-san took me home with him the first time.

It's the most beautiful sensation in the world.

 _I cannot stop this sickness taking over_  
_It takes control and drags me into nowhere_  
_I need your help,_  
_I can’t fight this forever_  
_I know you’re watching,_  
_I can feel you out there_

“Why did you make us pull back yesterday?! We were so close to get him!”

“We were all too tired to keep going after a whole day of running around turned into mice, and you weren’t in the best condition to go on either…”

“I was dong fine, Akira!”

“You had just ‘killed’ your dead mother’s cognitive existence that Shido sent to you. A very low blow on his part, if I’m allowed to say.”

“…what if I end up becoming like him?”

“You won’t.”

“Akira, he’s my father! I have the same blood as him running in my veins, we share the same DNA! What if I…”

*SLAP*

“Pull yourself together and listen to me carefully! You will NOT turn out like… like… that man! The fact that you’re freaking out only thinking about it means that you’ll never do the same thing he did! You busted me out of the police station even though it might’ve cost you much more than your career and reputation! The fact that you two share the same blood means nothing!”

“…birthright means nothing… now I understand what it really meant…”

_The resolution in Goro’s heart has awakened a new Persona… Robin Hood has given rise to Loki._

“I may be his son, but that doesn’t mean I have to be like him… only I can choose my own future!”

 _Take me over the walls below_  
_Fly forever_  
_Don’t let me go_  
_I need a savior to heal my pain_  
_When I become my worst enemy The enemy_

**Author's Note:**

> Even though I wrote it and came up with the idea, there are some people on Tumblr who helped me while I was writing it. So to all the mutuals on Tumblr I talked with, thank you for listening to me rambling about this idea of mine, for the precious advices and your patience in waiting for this fic to be posted.
> 
> I hope you all liked this fic. Let me know, okay? Feedback is food for a writer's soul, after all X3


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